Dancing, Drinking, and Other Dangers
by wannabewriter07
Summary: Been a fan of CSI for years. I adore the Morganders coupling on the show and was sad to see so little of it this last season on the show. I didn't think the writers did them justice, so I thought I would try to with my own story.
1. Chapter 1

Greg and Russell walked into the Tangier's grand ballroom donning tuxedos. Greg grinned and scanned the room taking in all the elegance of the mayor's retirement party.

"Thanks for the invite," he said to Russell.

"Thank the airline who delayed my wife's flight from Seattle," Russell responded. "Actually, I'm glad for the company. I usually find these events stuffy."

On their way to the bar, they passed by the dance floor and the overly adorned dinner tables set with fine china and flowers. A woman with beautiful blonde curls cascading down the back of her silver dress sat at the bar facing the bartender. Russell caught Greg staring.

"Well, I see Ecklie over there," he said gesturing towards the corner of the room, "why don't you find someone to entertain you while I'm gone." He nudged Greg in the direction of the bar. Greg took the hint and gave him a smirk while he went to meet the mystery blonde.

Fixing his hair, he pulled up next to the beauty's barstool trying to think of the perfect pick up line when he looked over at her.

"Morgan?"

His young colleague returned the surprised look and smiled. "Greg? What are you doing here?"

"I'm Russell's date for the evening." Greg pointed to his supervisor across the room.

Morgan smiled and nodded. "Lucky you. I'm my dad's." She sipped the martini in front of her.

"A martini, eh? No beer available?"

Morgan laughed. "I wish! No, I'm stuck being classy tonight."

Greg motioned to the bartender. "Well you certainly look the part."

"Thanks. You clean up nicely yourself." She set down her empty glass.

"A martini for me and another round for the beautiful lady," Greg said slipping the bartender some cash.

"Hey, now! Another one of these and I'll be drunk." She laughed again.

"I would love to see that. I bet you are a fun drunk." Greg grinned eyeing Morgan teasingly.

"Nope, just a cheap one," Morgan replied then cringed. "Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that. See it's already starting."

"Well I'm a clumsy drunk if it makes you feel any better. Can't stumble in a straight line to save my life when I'm wasted." The band began to play. He grabbed her hand hearing Sinatra's "The Way You Look Today" starting. "Let's dance before the alcohol sinks in."

Morgan let him help her off the stool and followed him as he led the way to the dance floor. Greg twirled her around and let his hands fall to her waist while Morgan intertwined her fingers to rest on the nape of his neck. They moved fluidly to the music catching the attention of their two superiors.

Russell smiled watching the two move around the room. "Ah, to be young again." Ecklie returned the smile viewing the flirty dance partners.

"I remember dancing with Morgan's mother to that song. God, she looks just like her. They grow up so fast." Ecklie observed his daughter's happy demeanor as she moved to the music.

Greg and Morgan's eyes locked on each other's. Greg started to lean towards her just as the song died down. The band director interrupted the moment by asking the guests to return to their seats. Morgan and Greg awkwardly broke apart and found their way back to the bar. In the background, the deputy mayor began his speech.

"Thank you for the dance," Morgan whispered to Greg while indulging in her third martini.

"The pleasure was all mine," Greg raised his glass to her and then downed his drink. He could smell her sweet perfume wafting in the air. He closed his eyes taking her in. "You are fine…a fine dancer."

Forty minutes and several drinks later, he could feel the alcohol washing his inhibitions away. Morgan had just finished telling him a story about a case she worked on in LA when he blurted out, "You smell fantastic. What is that?"

Morgan looked down and shyly smiled. "Chanel." She treated herself to a gin and tonic. Her head felt light, and she felt loose all over. She leaned into Greg's ear and whispered. "You want to get out of here?"

Greg smirked and looked entranced at Morgan. "You really are a cheap drunk." Morgan gave him a playful shove almost knocking him off the stool. Greg laughed.

"Are we interrupting?" The sheriff's voice rang out behind them. They turned to find both Ecklie and Russell waiting for them.

"M, you ready to go?" Ecklie continued.

Morgan looked at Greg and answered back. "Actually, I think I'm going hang back and grab a cab with Greg if that's okay with you, Dad."

"Sure, you're young. Enjoy yourselves." He gave them a tight grin. "Text me when you get home, okay?" He leaned in and gave Morgan a kiss on the cheek. Then he turned to Greg. "Take care of her Sanders." Greg nodded. Ecklie walked off.

"I better be going too. Need to check in on the wife," Russell said. He looked from Greg to Morgan."Hey Greg, come talk to me for a second." He helped the inebriated CSI off the barstool and led him to the side.

Holding him steady, Russell looked him up and down. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yessir," Greg slurred and saluted Russell before falling into laughter.

"Alright..alright." Russell took hold of Greg's shoulder and looked back at Morgan who was equally as wasted. Russell took a hotel room card out of his coat pocket.

"Here. Greg…Greg." He shook him slightly to get his attention. "Listen. I had reserved a room here, but without the missus, I'd rather go home. I don't think you or Morgan are in any condition to drive, let alone walk to the street to get a cab. You'd be the perfect target for muggers. Take this key, go upstairs and brew yourself and Morgan some coffee from the room. Sober up and then try to find your way home." He handed the key to Greg. "Room 1406, okay?"

"Room 1406," Greg repeated. "Thanks boss…so sorry." Russell patted him on the back. Then he turned and waved to Morgan before retreating to the exit.

Greg tried and failed to stroll back to the bar, stumbling over his feet. He leaned in on the bar counter next to Morgan. He flashed the room key between his fingers. "So, you wanted to get out of here?" Morgan's eyes fixed on his and she nodded slowly grinning.

They were a sight, laughing and stumbling to the elevator in all their splendor. The doors opened and they fell into each other while climbing in. Greg pushed the button for the 14th floor and the doors shut leaving them alone. He stared at Morgan and leaned in.

"I'm having a great time," he said.

"Me too," she whispered back. Their foreheads were touching. Greg pulled her closer just as he pressed his lips against hers. The elevator lurched and the doors opened. They pulled away from each other and moved aside as another couple entered.

Soon they arrived on their floor. Greg took Morgan's hand and they hurried down the hall to find the room. Locating 1406, Greg handed Morgan the key. He stood behind her trailing small kisses down her neck as she opened the door. Leading him in, Morgan turned and pulled Greg into a passionate kiss while sliding off his jacket. She stepped back and slowly slid the straps of her dress down her arms slithering out of the sequined gown. Greg looked her up and down lustfully. He grabbed her by the waist and picked her up. He kissed her fervently. She wrapped her legs around him and begin unbuttoning his shirt. Together they fell on the bed in a sensual embrace.

Morgan's head swam. She could hear a buzzing noise and willed herself to open her eyes. A bright light blinded her on the first attempt. She blinked opening her eyes once more to see a gap in the blinds as daylight leaked in. Her mind moved slowly. She realized she was in a room she didn't recognize. The buzzing continued. She suddenly felt something or someone shift beneath her. Looking down, she saw Greg sleeping peacefully. Quietly, she repositioned herself off of his chest to the other side of the bed trying to piece together the fragments of memory she had of the night before. Between the migraine and the constant buzzing, she couldn't think straight. As she pulled the sheets off, it dawned on her that she was naked. Realization of what had occurred the night before washed over her.

"Shit!" Greg stirred at the sound of her voice. Careful not to wake him, she eased out of bed and begin to dress. She check out her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She tried to wipe off her smeared make-up and ran her fingers through her tangled curls. Great, she thought, I look like a high class hooker. Just when I thought I couldn't be more humiliated.

She felt a vibration at her foot and the buzzing sound started again. She looked down to see her purse. Opening it, she took out her phone. It was her dad.  
"Hey Dad," she whispered into the receiver.

"Morgan, what the hell? Where have you been?"

"Dad, give me a minute. The reception's not great here." Morgan stalled as she tiptoed into the hall. "Look, sorry! I forgot to text you. I crashed when I got home and just woke up."

"M, you had me worried sick. I almost send a squad car out to your place."

"Look, Dad. I got to go. I'll see you at work, okay? Again, sorry. Bye." She hung up before he could respond. She paused outside the hotel room door and took a deep breath. Her mind was racing and her head was pounding. She had so many questions but was afraid of the answers. All she wanted to do was go home and take a cold shower.

Nursing a hangover and a large cup of strong coffee, Morgan walked into the lab. Thankfully, Greg wasn't in the locker room or anywhere else in sight when she arrived. She was mortified to even think how that conversation would go. Why did she have to get so drunk? She loved working with Greg with his flirty banter and charming grin. Sometimes it was the highlight of her day. They were always so comfortable with each other. Now she had screwed it up.

Hodges looked up from the specimen he was examining. "Your results are on the printer. You look tired. Rough night?"

Morgan rolled her eyes picking up the report. "You are truly charming. Thanks. What have you got for me?"

"The trace on your victim's shirt was syrup. Birch syrup to be exact. Can be found in many things including sauces, glazes, beer, wine, soft drinks, and even ice cream."

"Ice cream, huh? I could drown myself in some rocky road right now. Anything else you can tell me?"

"That's all I got. You sure you're okay?" Hodges gave her a sympathetic look.

"I'm fine. Thanks." Morgan turned to leave and stopped in her tracks. Greg was right outside in the hall talking to Russell. Morgan ducked behind the doorframe inside the lab hoping she wasn't spotted. She could hear their voices.

"Greg, glad to see you made it back in one piece. I need you to find Morgan. I have a case for you two over in Henderson. An assault." Russell's voice echoed in the hall.

"Thanks. I'm on it." Greg's voice sounded sad and hoarse. Maybe she was just reading too much into it. Maybe she was just…

"Um…what are you doing?" Crap, she forgot Hodges was there. She must have looked like an idiot.

"Nothing." Scattered, she turned to walk out the door and ran right into Greg.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgan felt her face go flush. She kept her eyes downcast and quickly maneuvered past Greg mumbling an apology.

Greg turned to watch her leave.

"Does she seem off today?" Hodges questioned standing next to him.

Ignoring the lab tech, Greg called out to Morgan before she was out of sight. "Morgan, wait!" He chased after her, gently grabbing her arm before she could go any further. "We need to talk."

Trying to avoiding eye contact, Morgan looked over Greg's shoulder to see Hodges staring at them. "Not here," she said pulling him into the nearby break room.

She shut the door.

"Morgan," he started.

She could feel the tears beginning to pool behind her eyes that were focused on the floor. She had to speak first. She had to take control of the situation before it got out of hand, before he could said something she would regret hearing. "Listen, Greg," she interrupted. "Let's just forget last night ever happened, okay? It was a mistake."

"Morgan," he tried cutting her off.

"No, Greg, listen. We were both unbelievably drunk. We should have never slept together. It was…"

"MORGAN!" She had never heard Greg raise his voice like that before. She looked up at him startled. "We're not alone," he quietly hissed.

"Oh, don't mind me." Morgan turned to see Sara sitting at the table hiding a smile behind her coffee mug.

"Oh, God!" Morgan's face felt hot, and the tears started to resurface. She ran out of the break room, utterly embarrassed.

"Morgan!" Greg called out after her turning to follow.

"Greg, don't." Sara's words stopped him. "Give her a few minutes." He nodded glumly. He walked over and sat down in the chair next to Sara. He leaned on the table and covered his face with his hands. How did everything get so messed up?

"What is wrong with me?" he groaned.

"Greg, nothing is wrong with you. She is just upset. She'll come around." Sara tried to cheer him up.

"God, I have the worst luck with women. They are either unavailable or completely crazy. And Morgan, well, clearly wants nothing to do with me." Greg sat up and looked at Sara. "Sara, I think I love her. What am I going to do?"

Sara gave his arm a friendly pat. "Morgan cares about you a lot. You would have to be blind not to see it. She is just confused. I know her and losing control is not something that Morgan is used to. I think she wants to be with you but doesn't know how to say it. Just give her some space to figure it out," She tried to reassure him.

Greg's phone beeped. Looking at it, he responded, "Well, so much for that idea. I have to find her and get to our crime scene. Our assault case just upgraded to murder."


	3. Chapter 3

Greg found Morgan leaning against the passenger side door of the Denali fidgeting with her phone.

"Hey," she said softly when she saw him approaching. "I'm sorry about earlier. That was…well, the thing is I don't want to risk our friendship over one indiscretion. Can we please just go back to the way things were before?"

Greg peered into her gorgeous green eyes. "Sure, I understand." She doesn't want to lose me as a friend, he realized. Only as a friend, of course.

As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, Morgan could sense a shift in his mood. He was distant and quiet. In fact, the whole ride to their destination was unbearably silent. This was exactly what she didn't want to happen.

They met with the detective on duty when they arrived. He gave them the details of the case: twenty-something year old male attacked from behind with a large weapon. He flatlined in the ambulance and was being transported to the morgue. Greg and Morgan thanked the detective for the information and then began processing the scene.

It took an hour to collect all the physical evidence and photograph everything. They barely spoke to each other during the investigation. Morgan could feel the awkward tension growing. It was all she could think about as she walked back to the car where Greg was loading everything into the trunk. Not watching where she was going, her foot caught on something and she fell to the ground.

"Morgan, are you okay?" Greg called out to her.

"Yeah," she yelled back as she attempted to stand. She winced in pain as she tried to drag her foot to a position where she could stand. "No," she croaked back weakly, "I'm not." Suddenly, she felt Greg's strong arms around her as he lifted her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. The scent of his cologne drew her in. God, he smelled good.

Greg gently set her on the passenger seat and carefully pulled off her shoe to examine her injury. Her ankle was already starting to swell.

"This doesn't look good. I'm taking you to the emergency room. I'll call Russell and see if he can find someone to meet us there to pick up the evidence and take the case." Morgan nodded. The pain was becoming excruciating. She begin to cry.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Greg said wiping a tear from her cheek. He moved to the driver's seat and begin the trek to the hospital.

After a little over an hour sitting in the waiting room, Greg heard her familiar voice coming down the hall.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really. I'm just going to take off the remainder of the day and rest. Look I got to go." Morgan hung up her phone and thanked the medical orderly who had wheeled her into the waiting area. Greg walked over to her eyeing the bright green cast.

"So green, huh? Does it glow in the dark?" He teased as he helped her out of the wheelchair and onto her crutches.

"Haha…very funny. It was either this or bright orange." She smiled.

"Seriously, though, how are you feeling?" He gave her a concerned look.

"I'm on a few painkillers. You will be happy to know that I can't drive for a week or two. Other than that, I'm fine."

"Well, I'm taking you home. I already had Finn grab our stuff from the locker room and trade my car for the Denali."

Greg helped Morgan to her room when they arrived at her place. She sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off the one shoe on her good foot.

"Man, I wish I could take a shower." She could still feel the crime scene on her.

"Why can't you? They gave you some covers for your cast and I can help you." Greg volunteered. "It's not like I haven't already seen you naked." He smirked.

"Hey! I thought we were going to forget about that," Morgan laughed; her cheeks turning red. Greg stopped smiling and looked her straight in the eye.

"Morgan, I can't do that. I can't just forget about what happened between us. And I don't want to. That night meant everything to me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted to kiss you, to touch you? Yeah, I know we crossed a line. But you have no idea how long I have been staring at that line willing myself to step over it. I can't just go backwards. I can't go back to just being friends, knowing what it feels like to be more than that with you. It would be agony."

Morgan looked down, afraid to let Greg see the tears in her eyes. "But what if it didn't work out? I don't think I can handle losing you. If we broke up, we wouldn't even be friends anymore. I can't lose you."

Greg knelt down next to her and lifted her chin to look at her. "What if it did work? Please just give us a chance. And if for some reason we broke up, I will still be here. I will even let you cry on my shoulder as we talk about what a complete tool I was and how I would regret letting you get away." He smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."

Morgan stared into his beautiful brown eyes. "Okay," she said. "Let's try."

Greg kissed her. "Thank you. I promise it will be worth it."

He helped Morgan undress and prepare for her shower. He stripped down also and turned on the water. Easing her in slowly, he led her under the water. He begin to wash her, kissing every place he cleaned. Their eyes met as the water cascaded down between them. Greg kissed her lips as Morgan took a careful step backwards, pressing her back against the wall. She caressed his back lightly running her fingers over his scars. Greg gently lifted her up as Morgan wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Cautiously and tenderly, he made love to her.

Laying in her pjs and Greg in his boxers, they were spread out on the bed. Morgan was asleep on her back, the only comfortable position she could manage. Greg laid propped up next to her watching her sleep. He brushed the hair away from her face all the while contemplating their future and the exciting possibilities it held. Little did he know that danger was also lurking in their not too distant future.


	4. Chapter 4

Four months had passed since their first fateful night together. It was a juggling act balancing both their professional and personal lives, but they did it skillfully. No one seemed to suspect anything at work, even when they found time to steal kisses behind closed doors. Only Sara was the wiser. Being his oldest friend still left in the lab, Greg confided in her when he decided it was time to take the next step.

The ring was an impulse buy. He and Russell had worked a robbery at a jewelry store down on the strip the week before. While processing the scene, the princess cut diamond still left in the glass casing caught his eye. In his mind, he could imagine the ring on Morgan's finger and suddenly it all seemed to fit. He knew he wanted her to be his wife. Once the case was confirmed closed, he brought Sara to the store for a second opinion.

"She'll love it." Sara agreed. "So when do you plan on popping the question?"

"I don't know yet. I just know I want to." Greg replied as he paid the cashier. Sarah looked at him and smiled. "What?" Greg asked.

"My little former lab tech is all grown up. I don't think any of us thought we'd see the day." She ruffled his hair.

Greg shook her off and rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. I haven't been that bad in years." His phone buzzed. "Great, I need to go into work early. Do me a favor? Hide this at your place. I don't want Morgan to accidentally find it." He handed her the shopping bag.

"I'll guard it with my life." She said.

"See that you do," he smiled back as he headed off.

He met Finn at a convenience store in Spring Valley off of Rainbow Blvd, another robbery gone south. There were two victims: a clerk face up in a pool of blood behind the counter and a patron curled up on the floor of one of the aisles with bullet wounds in both the head and abdomen. Greg walked passed the officer standing guard flashing his badge and pulling out his gloves.

"What have we got?" he asked Finn who was crouched by the dead cashier studying the blood patterns.

"Cashier went out first, one shot to the chest. I think the perp realized the second victim was there after killing the first. The second victim was hit twice, but there are at least four stray bullets in that direction, like the shooter was in a panic." Finn's phone rang. "Can you finish up in here? I need to take this. I'll be out back if you need me."

Greg nodded and started towards the second victim in the aisle. Kneeling down to pick up a shell casing, Greg spotted something wedged underneath the counter by the register. It looked like it could be a small duffel bag. He was about to move in that direction when he heard a loud bang. Standing up to look over the shelving, Greg pulled out his glock and scanned the room. The officer standing guard was collapsed on the ground at the entrance. Greg heard a noise behind him. He turned around steadying his aim. The gunman stood in front of him, his gun pointed at Greg. Quicker than he could comprehend, two shots rang out.

He saw the gunman fall forward revealing Finn standing behind him with her revolver raised. "Oh, Greg!" she exclaimed when she saw him. Suddenly he could feel the searing pain in his side. Looking down, he saw a wet black spot growing on his shirt and vest just below his ribs. He felt weak in the knees. The hardness of the tile floor was the last thing he felt before everything turned black.


	5. Chapter 5

Morgan walked out of the autopsy room nauseated. The victim on the slab had been a floater discovered probably seven to eight days past his expiration date. The smell of decomposition had been overpowering. Since his face was unrecognizable, she had the victim's fingers in a bag, cut off and ready to be rolled for prints. She was on her way to the lab to do just that when she noticed a small crowd gathered in her dad's office. Curious, she stood in the hall outside the door observing.

"Morgan!" She turned at the sound of her name. "I have been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes." Sara told her.

"Sorry, I was in an autopsy. You know how cell service is in there. What's going on?" she replied pointing to the congregation in the sheriff's office.

"There's been an accident," Sara continued."Morgan, it's Greg. He and another officer were shot at a scene."

"What?!" Shock coursed through her body. "Where is he? Is he okay? Oh God!Please tell me he's not…" She couldn't finish as panic started setting in. She begin to hyperventilate. Sara steadied her and led her to a nearby bench.

"Calm down. Take a deep breath. He's in surgery now. He was in critical condition, but he's a fighter, Morgan. I know he will be okay." Sara tried to soothe her.

"What if he's not?" Morgan choking on words looked at her, tears streaming. "I don't think I can handle this."

Sara hugged Morgan fighting back tears herself. "I know," she responded.

The sounds of the machines kept the time as Morgan sat by Greg's bedside stroking his hand. The doctor had said he was lucky. The bullet had only been half an inch from blowing out his left lung. In fact, it had miraculously missed any vital organ, and he was expected to make a full recovery. But he still hadn't woken from surgery and Morgan couldn't shake the anxious feeling she had waiting for him to open his eyes.

It had been an hour ago, five hours into Greg's surgery, when Morgan decided she couldn't take it anymore. She had to take her mind off of what was happening to Greg, even if it was only two minutes. She later cursed herself for the added stress when two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test. They had been so careful in covering their tracks to hide their secret relationship but so careless when it came to contraception. Morgan had been carrying the test in her purse for the past two days trying to avoid the inevitable. The timing couldn't have been worse.

"How's our boy doing?" Russell's soft words broke her thoughts. He patted her shoulders and then pulled up a chair next to her by Greg's bed. Morgan let go of Greg's hand and sat up. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear while answering, "The doctor said he should wake up as soon as the anesthesia wears off."

Russell watched her shift nervously in her seat. "He looks good." Russell continued the conversation.

"Yeah, he does." Morgan focused on Greg's calm expression, praying for him to just wake up. Patience was never one of her strengths and today she was almost drained of it.

"Morgan, how are _you_ holding up?" She felt his quizzical eyes on her waiting for her reply. She sensed he probably knew more than he was saying. He was too good at his job not to.

"About as good as anyone else. How about you?" she bluffed, turning away to hide the tears beginning to brim her eyes. Russell opened his mouth to speak when the heart monitor next to the bed started beeping an alert. Both of them looked up at it. "What's going on?" Morgan asked puzzled. Two nurses rushed in.

"I need a crash cart in here," one called out into the hall while checking Greg's vitals.

"What's going on?" Morgan demanded again, urgency in her voice.

"Get them out of here!" another nurse shouted as someone else pushed them out the door.

Watching all the medical personnel frantically huddled around Greg through the room's window broke her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sobbed. Russell enveloped her into a hug, hushing her gently as they endured the uncertainty set in front of them.


	6. Chapter 6

A blood clot had momentarily stopped his heart, a complication from surgery. When they revived him, it brought him out of his slumber. Like resurfacing from being underwater, he caught his breath, gasping for air. People stood on either side of him, examining and prodding. Fear started seeping in. He was alert and felt his senses heightened. He heard her before he saw her, her voice pacifying him.

"Greg? Greg? Can you hear me?" She placed her hand on his arm, rubbing it gently. Instinctually, he looked at her grabbing her hand.

"Morgan," his voice was weak. "Morgan." He pulled her closer repeating her name as her forehead met his.

"Greg. Thank God you're okay," she whispered as he kissed her over and over taking her in. For a moment, they were the only people in the world until they heard Russell clear his throat, bringing them back to reality. Simultaneously, they looked up and pulled apart, embarrassed about being exposed.

"Glad to have you back," Russell said stepping forward. Greg smiled and nodded thanking him. Russell eyed the couple curiously. "Well I'll give you two some time alone. I need to be going anyway, just wanted to check up on you, Greg. Morgan, I'll see you later." Russell winked at her as he shook Greg's hand.

After his exit, Morgan turned to Greg. She was about to speak when she saw how tired and worn down he looked. She wanted to talk to him, to further calm her fears, but she didn't want to burden him after all he had been though. It could wait. All that mattered was that he was awake. He was there. He was alive.

A week had passed. Greg had been put on bed rest to mend, and their lives begin to return to some sense of normalcy. But Morgan could feel the anxiety building up inside her. Every time she opened her mouth to tell him, it felt dry and the task of speaking impossible. Now she had a doctor's appointment scheduled for next Friday and no idea how to broach the subject before then. They laid in bed together, spooning, his arm resting protectively against her stomach. She heard his soft snores coaxing her to also sleep, but her mind raced and her pulse quickened. Tomorrow, she decided before drifting off to sleep. She would tell him tomorrow, somehow.

Greg may have been on some major painkillers, but he wasn't oblivious. Morgan hadn't been her usual self since his attack. She seemed distracted and brushed off his advances, claiming he needed time to heal. He was a grown man who knew exactly what he needed: his girlfriend back. He racked his brain thinking about what could have caused the sudden change when it occurred to him that he had never told her that he loved her. He had thought it a million times but had yet to verbalize it, always waiting for the perfect time. Which would have been at the hospital after he woke up, or any time in the week since. Shit. He had screwed things up. He had to make it right. He knew what he needed to do. He picked up his phone and dialed.

"Hey Sara," he said after she answered,"I need your help."

Morgan's shift had been particularly brutal that night. Triple homicide, including a two year old, and more blood than her stomach or nerves could handle. In addition to that, her dad wanted to talk to her about some rumors that had been floating around the office. Too exhausted to confirm or deny anything, she agreed on a time to meet the next day and set out to go home and deal with the next hurdle she had to overcome: telling Greg.

The apartment was dark when she came home, and she assumed Greg was already asleep. She opened the bedroom door and was surprised to find flickering candles covering every nook and cranny left in the room. Roses petals littered the floor and bed, and soft music begin to play in the background. She felt his arms surround her from behind and his lips caressing the bottom of her neck.

"Does the fire marshall know about this?" she teased turning around to embrace him. "What's going on? What is all this?"

"This is me telling you I love you, Morgan." He held her smiling, gazing deep into her eyes. "This is me telling you I will always love you. This is me asking you to be my wife." He pulled a small box from his pocket and gingerly knelt down on one knee. Opening the box, he asked, "Marry me?"

Morgan stared at the ring, dumfounded. She opened her mouth to say yes but, instead, blurted out what had been on her mind all week. "I'm pregnant."


	7. Chapter 7

"What?!" Greg stood up, the ring box forgotten in his hand. "Are you sure?" He moved closer to her, eyes widening.  
Morgan looked down at Greg's hand and then back to his eyes, angry with herself for ruining the moment. "Yes. I have an appointment on Friday," she almost whispered, uncertain of Greg's reaction.  
Greg licked his lips. "That's great," he croaked, his eyes wandering. "I need to sit down." He moved past her to sit on the bed. Morgan sighed and followed him.  
"Greg, it's okay to be scared. I know I just threw a lot at you. But, you are happy, aren't you?" She panicked. "I mean, you're not mad, are you?"  
Greg turned to look at her. "Morgan, I'm thrilled. Really," he smiled. "I'm sorry. It just took me by surprise." He leaned in and kissed her, calming her. "What about you? Are you happy?"  
"Honestly, I'm not sure what to think. I'm scared, I guess. I don't know if I'm cut out to be a mom." Morgan looked down at her hands willing herself not to cry. "Like today, for example, I had to process the bodies of a precious two year old boy and his mother. All I could think about was what if it was my kid? What if I got called to a scene one day and my child was the victim? What if I can't protect him or her?" Unconsciously, she rubbed her stomach. Greg put his hand over hers causing her to look up at his face.  
"Morgan, you are going to be a wonderful mother." He kissed her again. "Besides, I will always be there to protect you both."  
"Um, you were just shot, remember?" Morgan reminded him, smiling as she said it.  
"Yeah, and I've been beaten and burned before too. Just can't get rid of me." He picked up the ring box again from the bed. "You never answered my question," he said holding the box out to her.  
She smiled taking it. "Yes. Of course I will."

She heard shouting as she approached her dad's office. A man in a dark suit emerged, anger etched in his features. Her dad followed him out the door.  
"You haven't heard the last of this, Sheriff," he huffed, staring Ecklie down.  
"Maybe not, but I've said my piece about it. Nothing will change that. My hands are tied." His worn face perked up at the sight of Morgan. The man in the suit turned and glared at Morgan before brushing past her. Her expression said exactly what she was thinking: what was that about?  
"It's nothing. Come in," her father answered her voiceless question. She sat in the plush chair opposite his desk. She felt like a child about to be scolded, taking a deep breath to soothe her frazzled nerves.  
"So, you wanted to talk to me?" she started.  
Ecklie sat on the edge of his desk. "I'm concerned about you, kiddo. I heard you've been feeling sick a lot on the job lately, and every time I've seen you in the past couple weeks you've looked so defeated. I wasn't going to say anything, but then David mention something about overhearing you set up a meeting with a doctor. Well, I just figured I should check in, make sure it's not something more serious."  
Ugh, Hodges. That nosy little gossip. She would deal with him later. She squirmed in her seat knowing there was no way out of this. She just had to say it.  
"Actually, Dad, I'm pregnant. About eight weeks along." Ecklie stared at her, jaw set, fury in his eyes. She braced herself for the worst.  
"Who's the guy, Morgan?" he spat. "Where is he in all this?" He got up and walked behind his desk, falling into his office chair.  
"It's not like that. We've actually been together for a while. In fact, he proposed to me last night," she hit back. It was like falling back into an old routine, the arguing. "He is going to be there for me, unlike some other men in my life."  
"Hey! That's not fair," he sighed."Please Morgan, let's not do this. I'm happy for you and this mystery guy. I just feel left out of your life. So, who is this guy?"  
"That would be me," Greg's voice caught them both off guard. He hobbled in from the door, obviously still in pain, and sat in the seat next to Morgan, taking her hand in his. She stared at him, surprised. She had told him about dreading this meeting but never expected him to show up. She was just blowing off steam, unleashing all the worries she had held in for so long.  
"Sanders?!" Ecklie looked incredulous. Shock transformed into rage. "What the hell? How long has this been going on?"  
"I love your daughter, sir," Greg began. "I know I should have come to you first, but that was my mistake, not hers. Look, I take full responsibility."  
"You damn well better." Ecklie stood readying for the fight, fixing his gaze on Greg, when a knock on the door interrupted them.  
"Sheriff, you are needed up front," the secretary surveyed the scene before her. Ecklie stormed out the door, pushing past her.

The rest of their co-workers had been much more receptive to the news. At first, everyone had exchanged glances and some, knowing smiles. Then came the congratulations and hugs. The team treated them to breakfast after the shift, toasting the couple with mimosas (a virgin glass for the mother to be). Overall, the night went over better than either could have predicted, but the disconnect with her father weighted heavily on Morgan. Their relationship had finally seemed to be in a good place. Now, the resentment and heartache from her teenage years were resurfacing, breaking whatever had been mended.

Time passed quickly and slowly. Morgan felt she had lived a lifetime in just a matter of months, learning more than she ever thought possible about babies, birth, and bottles. Yet she still felt unprepared for the radical change her life was going to take in a short period of time. She was only three weeks shy of her determined due date. She laid stretched out in the recliner, her swollen feet resting comfortably. She relaxed, closing her eyes, as Greg bend down next to her. He ran his hands over her bulging belly. Softly, he spoke to his unborn daughter, receiving a swift kick in return.  
"Did you feel that?" he asked excitedly.  
"Yes, honey. All the time." Morgan replied without opening her eyes.  
"Well, excuse me for being enthusiastic," Greg teased. He sat on the arm rest and ran his fingers through her hair.  
Morgan sighed and looked at him. "Sorry. Hormones. Have I told you how much I love you lately?"  
"Not since yesterday." He grinned. "So two days left until your maternity leave, are you ready?"  
"Yes. No. Don't know. So tired," she mumbled drifting off to sleep. Greg kissed her temple. After so many lonely years, he finally felt like everything he ever needed or wanted was laying in front of him, gently snoring.

"So, last day for a while. Want to grab a bite to eat? My treat," Hodges peeked in on Morgan in her office. She had been on nothing but desk duty for a month or so now and welcomed the needed break from paperwork.  
"Absolutely," she responded grabbing her jacket. On their way out, they bumped into Finn.  
"Where are you two off to?" she questioned.  
"Getting grub. Care to join us?" Morgan asked. Finn agreed and together they headed to the parking lot. They drove off, unaware of the two men in the black sedan that begin to trail them. One of them, a man in a dark suit with angry features and a grudge to settle.

The crowd at the diner was slim due to the late hour. Morgan and Finn had placed their orders and were waiting for Hodges to make up his mind.  
"Now, how fresh is the fish in the fresh fish platter? A day old? A week?" he needled the waitress. The girls rolled their eyes.  
"Dear God, just order already," Finn remarked, prompting him to just go with the fish platter. "Finally! Now on to more important matters, like have you and Greg set a date yet for the wedding?" She looked at Morgan amused.  
"No, not yet. He suggested we just elope, but I want things to be right with my dad first. I want him to be there, even though we have barely spoken in months." She played with the straw in her water, averting eye contact with either of them. A loud sound broke the conversation, bringing everyone's attention to the entrance of the restaurant where two men stood holding semi-automatics.  
"Nobody move. You by the cash register, call the police and tell them you are being held hostage. I'm not here for your money. I'm here for justice, and I intend to get it on my own terms."


	8. Chapter 8

Ecklie sat behind his desk holding a worn pink teddy bear in his hands. He had bought it from the hospital gift shop the day Morgan was born . He had been so nervous and excited at the time. He smiled recalling the memory. He had no clue how to be a father, but back then, it held so many possibilities. He still had no idea what he was doing, but he wasn't so optimistic anymore. Today was his last chance to make things right before his granddaughter was born. He had been running the words he had planned to say to Morgan through his mind when Russell interrupted his thoughts.

"Conrad, we have a problem," Russell started. Ecklie looked up at him, setting the toy on his desk. "We have a hostage situation in progress at a local diner. They are demanding to speak with you." Russell took a breath gripping the top of the chair in front of him. He continued. "We have reason to believe Finn, Hodges, and Morgan are some of the captives."

"Morgan?" the sheriff breathed. He stood up and started walking towards the door. "Let's go."

Greg and Sara were finishing up an interview with a suspect about her whereabouts the night of a murder when their phones buzzed again. It was the third time in last fifteen minutes. Looking at his phone, Greg excused himself and stepped out of the interrogation room.

"Russell, what's going on?" Greg began. Listening to his response, Greg stopped cold in his tracks. "WHAT?!'' he shouted, startling several people passing him in the hall. He paid them and their curious glances no mind, his thoughts elsewhere.

"We'll be right there." His throat went dry. He swung open the door to the interrogation room, slamming it against the wall. "Sara, we need to go. Now!" He felt his body trembling, anger and fear rising in him.

She looked at him in disbelief. "Okay," she said hesitantly, leaving the detective to finish the inquest. "What's going on?" she asked as they raced out of the building.

"Morgan is being held hostage."

They were lined up on the floor against the wall at the back of the diner, stripped of their phones and other belongings. There were eight of them in all: Morgan, Finn, Hodges, the waitress, the cashier, two of the kitchen staff, and an old grey-haired gambler who, down on his luck, had picked the worst time to grab a burger. Sitting in that position was so uncomfortable that Morgan felt a dull pain radiating down her back. She was taking small deep breaths trying to keep herself from panicking. She could feel her little girl doing somersaults inside her.

The men had said little since their first tirade, now speaking in hush tones only to each other. They seemed to be in disagreement with each other. One man appeared uncertain in his role, the gun shaking slightly in his hands and his pace quickening as he scanned the hostages. The man in the dark suit was more steady, in control. Morgan recognized the shaky gunman but couldn't place from where, and the slowly intensifying back pain wasn't helping her to think.

Sirens grew louder until they were vibrating right outside the diner, bright flashing red and blue lights seeping through the slats of the blinds. The phone behind the counter begin ringing.

"Watch them," the one in control barked to the other as he went to answer the phone.

Taking the opportunity, Finn whispered to Morgan. "How are you holding up?"

"Uncomfortable, but okay," Morgan answered. She closed her eyes, breathing through another back spasm.

"Are you sure?" Finn asked watching her. Morgan opened her eyes feeling liquid spread underneath her. She looked for the source of the spill until it hit her.

"Oh my God, I think my water just broke!"

Everyone was staring at her now.

Ecklie and Russell climbed out of the squad car taking in the scene. A dozen police vehicles flanked them on either side. Ecklie stood numbly staring at the dark cold building that held his daughter and her fate.

"We have contact," an officer said handing Ecklie the cell phone. Ecklie tried to remember his training. Rage coursed through him, but he couldn't let it show.

"This is Sheriff Ecklie speaking. What is it you want?" He spoke each word slowly, controlled.

"Pleasantries first, Sheriff. Don't you want to know who I am? Or do you already recognize my voice from our very insightful meeting a few months ago?" Cynicism traveled through the phone's speaker. And, all of a sudden, he did recognize. The sound of the voice bringing him back to that moment.

Seven months earlier and an hour before his meeting with Morgan, Ecklie sat in his office across from Samuel Eller. Eller's son, Jacob, had been killed a week before by law enforcement. He was the prime suspect in a convenience store robbery turned homicide, basically confirming his guilt when he returned to the crime scene for the money, shooting an officer and a CSI in the process.

"Look, you have my deepest sympathies, but that's about all I can give you," Ecklie told him. This didn't sit well with Eller, who dripped of money and power, obviously not accustomed to not getting his way.

"Like hell it is. You killed my only child and then ran his name, our name, through the mud. I think you owe me more than your sympathies."

Elle was blind to all the evidence the sheriff had laid before him, finding some way to excuse each damning clue. Jacob's prints were all over the murder weapon, which he had been holding when he was shot. Eller blew it off as a scared boy picking up the discarded murder weapon for his own self defense. The video surveillance which showed a man matching Jacob's description performing the hold up was too grainy to be taken seriously. Besides, why would Jacob, heir to a real estate fortune, need to rob a gas station for a measly couple thousand? The answer: he was a nineteen year old with a fake id, a penance for blackjack, and a deep fear of disappointing his father.

"Do you have children, Sheriff?"

"A daughter," Ecklie said adjusting his tie, ready for the uncomfortable encounter to end.

"So if it was your child, I bet this would be a different matter. You would be doing everything you could to rectify the situation."

"Look, I wish I could help you, but there is not much that can be done."

Eller fumed. "You sit behind that desk, behind that title, and think that this doesn't concern you. That I'm just another person you can throw words at and wash your hands of." Ecklie began to show him out the door. "You haven't heard the last of this, Sheriff."

"I'll take your silence as a yes," Eller continued. "Ever heard of an eye for an eye, Sheriff. Or perhaps, a child for a child." Greg, who had just walked up, heard the conversation. He slammed the roof of the car with his fist.

"Don't you touch her!" Russell and Sara pushed him back and out of ear shot of the phone's receiver. Ecklie watched them walk away, dread overcoming him.

"What is it you want from me?" his voice edged.

The shaky gunman looked from Morgan to Eller, eyes widening. "I can't do this. I can't. It wasn't supposed to be like this," he rambled. Eller glared at him, ignoring his comment as he continued his conversation with Ecklie.

"I want you to feel the pain my son felt. I will exchange all the hostages for you. You have an hour to decide, and if I were you, I'd hurry because it looks like we're about to have one more join us soon. Your daughter just went into labor." He hung up. Marching over to his accomplice, he grabbed him by the collar.

"Listen to me. This is what you signed up for. There is no going back now. You knew that the moment you stepped in the door. Pull yourself together or this will become a solo act." He let him fall back against one of the tables.

Morgan was watching the exchange trying to control the contractions, when she finally remembered where she knew the gunman from. A few months ago, she had questioned him about the murder of his son and wife. He was distraught, unfocused. His wife's ex had been stalking her, threatening her. They had gotten a restraining order against him, but in the end, it did no good. He had come over while the man was at work and brutally murdered his wife and child before killing himself. Morgan remember how deeply disturbed the scene had made her, especially since she had just found out she was pregnant, about to be a mother herself. Paul Avery. That was his name.

"Look, we have him right where we want him," Eller said to Avery. "Another hour and this will all be over. We will finally have our justice. Just don't screw it up before then." Avery nodded nervously, tightening the grip on his gun.

Greg sat on the asphalt against the police car, head in hands. He had promised to protect them, to always be there. His daughter wasn't even born yet, and he had already broken his promise. His world was falling apart, and all he could do was watch it crumble around him. Morgan was in labor. If they didn't get her out soon, both her and the baby could be at risk of dying, gunman or not. He felt Sara's presence next to him.

"Greg, we are going to get them out of there."

"Alive?" he scoffed, wiping away tears.

"Greg, look at me." He met her eyes. "You have to believe it is going to be okay. You have to continue to hope, even if that is all you can do. Otherwise, they win."

He nodded as she patted his back. Ecklie looked at them, focusing on Greg. He strapped on the bulletproof vest under his shirt, preparing to give himself over to the captors. This was his fault. He had put them all in this horrible situation. He just hoped he wasn't too late to fix it.

"You need to let her go. You can have the rest of us, but she needs to go to a hospital now," Hodges spoke up. It pained him to see Morgan in such agony, withering every few minutes, struggling to overcome what was inevitable.

Eller smacked him in the head with the butt of his gun. "Anyone else care to voice their opinion?" He kicked a fallen Hodges in the gut before walking off.

The sound of the loud speaker vibrated through the walls, giving both men pause.

"Send out the hostages. We are ready for the exchange." A voice boomed.

Russell eyed Ecklie. "Are you sure you want to do this? There has to be another way. This is suicide."

"No, leaving Morgan in there any longer would be suicide. I need to do this." Ecklie walked towards the entrance, the SWAT team making a shield behind him. The doors opened. Eller held Morgan, hunched over and tear streaked, in front of him with a revolver to her head. The other hostages quickly filed out, running to the other side of the law enforcement's shields. Finn and Hodges glanced back at Morgan as they were pushed forward by the others.

"Ready when you are, Sheriff." Eller smiled victorious.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been a chance meeting that brought Samuel Eller and Paul Avery together. Leaning against the hood of his Lexus in the police department's parking lot, Eller had been dragging on a cigarette, blowing out smoke and steam. He was calculating a plan. Ecklie would paid. There was no other choice. To Eller, life was black and white. He had never believed in that shades of grey shit. People were either right or wrong. Good or evil. Right then, he didn't care which category he fell into as long as he had vengeance against those who had wronged him. But the question was: could he manage it alone? No, not in the spectacular fashion he had imagined. He needed a partner.  
As luck would have it, Paul Avery was being escorted out of the building by an officer at that very moment. "Tell your sheriff that he's an ass," Avery said as parting words to the officer as he was shoved out the door. Disheveled and disoriented, he stumbled in the parking lot. Eller watched him, contemplating.  
"You look like you could use a smoke," he said holding out his pack of cigarettes to Avery as he walked by. Avery looked at Eller, eyes flickering.  
"I could use a drink," he said drily.  
Eller smiled, putting his cigarettes back in his jacket pocket. "Hop in. I'll drive."

Ecklie wanted to slam Eller against a wall. He wanted to knock him out. Kill him even. But he wanted to give Morgan a hug more. Terrified and hurt Morgan. His little girl.  
"Let her go," he demanded, his despair evident. "I'm here. Take me instead." He stood in front of Morgan now, eyes pleading.  
"Turn around and put your hands on your head. No sudden movements. You understand?" Eller barked and Ecklie complied. He felt the cold barrel of the gun pressed up against the back of his skull.  
Eller released Morgan. She stepped back from them, shellshocked. She wanted to call out to her dad, to apologize, to plead with him to not to go, not to do this. But the pain of another contraction brought her to her knees as she let out a scream. Suddenly, Greg was next to her, hand on her shoulder. Two EMTs followed him with a gurney. She looked up to see her father one more time, but he was gone. Eller had already dragged him inside the diner.

The night of their first meeting Eller took Avery out to a honky tonk dive bar at the edge of town. The place was usually deserted and the alcohol, cheap. They sat at the bar as he ordered two whiskey sours. A few drinks later, Avery had spilt his whole story. How his family had been brutally murdered. How he had gone to the police station to demand answers. How Ecklie had brushed him off with a thin apology and how in anger he had grabbed the sheriff by the collar causing his guarded exit.  
"He apologized, but he was so damn arrogant. Like it rolled off him. Like situations like that don't touch him." Avery downed a shot of tequila. Eller agreed, telling his version of his own tale of grief and an angry encounter with the sheriff.  
"We should show him how it feel," Avery said, sloshed.  
"My thoughts exactly," Eller replied before laying out his plan for revenge.

In the time since his family's deaths, Avery had become a drunk. Drinking at night to silence the ghosts, then drinking to escape the silence. But as Eller dragged Ecklie in and zip tied him to the back of a chair, Avery was stone cold sober for the first time in months. It made him unsteady and full of regret. Talking about it was one thing. Doing it, well that was quite another. He was starting to see Eller for the madman he really was, now that alcohol wasn't clouding his vision.  
"I'd hate to kill you right away, Sheriff. Where would be the fun in that?" Eller toyed with him. He picked up a large bladed knife from the counter by the kitchen. "Maybe we should watch you suffer and bleed a little before I shoot you."  
Avery suddenly saw an image of his son flash in his mind. His precious little boy. He was not the father he used to be, not the man his son looked up to. He was no better than the man who had killed him. The thought made him ill. He had to rectify this. He couldn't die tonight and face his son again as a monster. Eller had his back to him. He never saw the frying pan as it crashed against his skull, cracking it. He fell dead, as blood pooled around his head.  
Ecklie looked up at Avery, his expression a mix of surprise and horror. Avery took the revolver from Eller's lifeless hand. Ecklie braced himself for the impact, closing his eyes. Avery said a prayer as he pulled the trigger, the bullet blasting his brains out the side of his head, sending him finally home to his family.  
The sound of the gun brought the SWAT team crashing through the door.

Greg sat on the edge of the hospital bed cradling his infant daughter as Morgan slept beside them. It had been a harrowing ordeal, but she was finally here. She had all twenty fingers and toes, her mother's lips, and her father's eyes. To Greg, she was pure perfection.  
"How's everyone doing?" Sara stood in the doorway, watching the adoration between father and daughter.  
"I'm in love. Sara, she's incredible. Come meet my daughter," he said standing up to walk to her. Sara peeked at the wiggly pink newborn. "Meet Grace Lillian Sanders."  
"She's gorgeous, Greg." Sara smiled.  
"That's all Morgan. I'm just hoping she gets my sense of humor," he said rocking the baby gently.  
"God help us," Sara teased. "How is Morgan?" They both looked over at her slumbering figure.  
"She's sleeping. They gave her a sedative. She was still kind of hysterical after the baby came."  
"Does she know about Ecklie yet?" Sara asked. Grace grabbed Greg's finger and cooed. His eyes went soft, his heart full. A knock interrupted them.  
"Conrad." Sara looked towards the broken man standing at the door. There was an awkward pause. "I should be going," Sara continued. She patted Greg on the back. "Congratulations, Dad," she said smiling as she left.  
Greg stood in front of Ecklie, his daughter in his arms. "Conrad, I don't think I will be ever able to thank you enough. If you hadn't done what you did, I can't even imagine what would have happened to Morgan and Grace."  
"Grace?" Ecklie looked down at the little girl in Greg's arms.  
"Meet your granddaughter. This is Grace. Do you want to hold her?" Ecklie nodded and Greg placed the baby in his arms. Taking her, Ecklie sat down in a nearby chair.  
"She looks so much like Morgan." Tears welled in his eyes. "I'm sorry for everything I put you all through. I should have…"  
"No, I'm sorry. If some guy who worked under me had snuck around with my daughter, I would have lost it too. We should have just been up front with everyone from the beginning." Greg ran his hand gently over Grace's little head. They heard Morgan stir in the bed. Ecklie handed the baby back to Greg and walked over to her. He took her hand in his as her eyes fluttered open.  
She blinked, staring at him for a moment. "Dad?" she said. "Oh my God! Dad!" She reached over and pulled him into a hug. "You're here. You're okay."  
"God, Morgan, I'm so sorry," he said.  
"No, I should have apologized a long time ago." She sat back on the bed.  
"We're both stubborn, you and I." He smiled. Morgan looked up when she heard the baby crying. Greg stood beside them now.  
"I think she wants her mom," he said handing her over. Morgan gazed lovingly at her daughter for the first time. The infant stopped crying and stared curiously at her. "You must have the magic touch," Greg said sitting next to Morgan.  
"Greg, she's perfect. I can't believe she's here." She looked up at him. "Oh my God, we're parents." Greg leaned in and kissed her. Ecklie watched the new family from the distance of the door, feeling happy and whole, before he quietly exited.

Greg stood at the front of the altar, rubbing his hands together to keep them from sweating, when the sight of his bouncing toddler caught his attention. Sara was at the end of the aisle holding little Grace Sanders's hand trying to show her how to throw the flowers out of her basket. The little girl was paying her no mind, so excited to have everyone looking at her. Grace looked straight ahead to see her father. Squealing, she let go of Sara's hand and dropped her basket, racing towards her dad, her blonde ringlets dancing as she ran. Kneeling down, Greg caught her and hoisted her up on his side. Sara glared at him, giving him both an evil eye and a forgiving smile. He laughed and shrugged then spun his daughter around, making her giggle. They both looked up at the chapel doors when the Wedding March began to play. The double doors parted and Morgan walked in, stunning in a strapless white gown. The light played with the beading on her dress, making her sparkle as she moved.  
"Mommy's a princess," Grace gasped.  
Greg couldn't take his eyes off his beautiful bride. "Yes, baby, she is," he agreed. Ecklie walked Morgan down the aisle stopping in front of Greg. He kissed her on the forehead before retrieving his granddaughter from his soon to be son-in-law. Greg took Morgan's hands in his, mouthing the word wow to her as he looked her over. She laughed leaning towards him. The minister called the crowd to sit and began the ceremony. Less than half an hour later, they were finally husband and wife.

Nick Stokes watched the bride and groom swing their daughter between them as the photographer set up for the next shot. He didn't get to see his friends nearly as much as he would have like to since he had moved to California, but his job kept him busy.  
"Congratulations! What the hell took y'all so long?" he said giving both Greg and Morgan a hug. He picked up Grace. "How's my sweetheart?" he said to her. "You know if you had gotten married back when you were pregnant with this little one, you probably could have gotten the shotgun special," he joked, tickling their little girl.  
"Who said we didn't get the special?" Greg said looking at Morgan. Nick arched an eyebrow looking back and forth between them.  
Morgan blushed. "I'm due in December."  
"Well, I'll be damned. Did you hear that Miss Gracie? You're going to have a little playmate soon. Looks like mom and dad can't get their hands off each other."  
Morgan punched his arm playfully before collecting her daughter from him. Nick smiled and gave her side hug. "Congratulations. Again."

Sara watched the newlyweds as she sat at the empty dinner table sipping champagne. "Is this seat taken?" The familiar voice startled her.  
"Gil? What are you doing here?" she said to her ex as he slid into the seat beside her.  
"I was invited, by Greg," Grissom said admiring the happy couple himself. "Remember our wedding day?"  
"How can I forget? We were in that small little hut with the rain beating against it. It was just the three of us, but with all that rain, I could barely hear the priest tell us to say our vows," she smiled at the memory. "It was perfect."  
Grissom returned the smile and asked, "Care to dance?" He extended his hand to her.  
"Always." She placed her hand in his as he led her to the dance floor.

The End

**That's all I got, but it was fun. Let me know if you liked it or not. I'm still itching to write, so if you have any ideas or prompts, send them my way. Thanks for reading. : )**


End file.
